Love Most Grimm
by AlinaLotus
Summary: A collection of dark fairy tales that center around a brash, reckless girl who always seems to fall into the clutches of a mysterious, dark stranger. But who is really hunter and prey here?


Part I The Forest of Hands and Teeth

 _I'll blow down your house  
and then I'm gonna eat ya..._

The fence had surrounded the village for as long as anyone could remember. Back in the old days its maintenance was given high priority, and rich and poor alike toiled to keep it high and strong.

Now there were no distinctions of poor and rich. There was only _us_ and _them_.

Darcy couldn't have told you why she never feared the forest, and certainly not the rumored creatures in it. Many young maidens had been stolen from their families, never to be seen again, in the fearful cold hours between dusk and dawn. Once lost, a girl was never searched for. She was never even talked of. Mothers learned to keep their tears to themselves and fathers were, for a time, extra brutal in their hunting. Yet their survival continued, and the edge of the forest, which the rusted chainlink forever guarded, was overgrown and still, and despite the death that reeked from it, beautiful. To Darcy, anyway. She longed for those woods, for whatever was in them. It was a hunger inside of her, one that refused to be satisfied.

There were rumors of dark magic and devilry, and every neighbor was suspicious of the other, though they depended on the community for survival. Safety in numbers, after all. It was something that was pounded into them from a very young age. Girls who wandered alone got taken, were devoured.

Darcy could think of nothing that sounded better.

 **oooo**

Every girl in the village knew that she was precious. Her virtue was like delicate rose petals, sweet-smelling and lovely to look at. Damaged if touched, though, and it was just too bad for Darcy that the men of her village were either too stinking, too scared, or too wrapped up in crops or wood cutting to do anything about it. Where other girls in the village hoarded their purity, Darcy longed to be rid of hers. She dreamt of a warm, hard body, lips tinged with red, and eyes so strikingly green that they left her without breath. On those nights, waking with a dull ache between her legs and a vague throbbing at her neck, she would do nothing but gaze at the moon, her heart bursting with longing.

It was always the same man, or _non_ man, for Darcy knew that no human was capable of the blissful gratification she felt, time after time. It was strange, but so comforting, really, to know someone so intimately, to have them know her in return.

Darcy had always known she wasn't like everyone else. They were content with their simple lives, happy with back-breaking labor and meager rations and simply surviving another sunrise. It was madness! Darcy loved adventure books and swimming nude in the stream on a hot summer day, things that were absolutely abhorred and denounced by every other person she lived with. The elders of the village banned the young women from even learning to read and write, determined to keep them in blissful ignorance. Darcy's father, however, saw no use in having a stupid daughter, and in the quiet hours of early dark he taught her to use the best survival tool of all; her mind.

And though the creatures in the forest loved a strong mind- for oh yes, they existed, and were every bit as terrifying as they had always been told to be- they really loved a pretty neck.

Very luckily for Darcy, she had both.

 **oooo**

It was her favorite kind of night, just two weeks after the Autumn equinox. A crisp evening that stirred something inside her, something rushed and restless. In her younger days, Darcy's father was able to keep her in the house with minimal threats and promises of a new book or new beads to sew onto her favorite headscarf. Now, at nineteen, her father knew he had no such power over her.

She waited until her father was in bed, grateful he always was a heavy sleeper. Her mother, she supposed, must have hated it; what good was a husband who fell into a stupor the second his head hit the pillow? With practiced silence, Darcy retrieved her favorite cloak from the peg by the door. Her unruly hair was pulled back, her boots tightly tied, a silver knife at her hip. In her shoulder bag she carried a few apples and a shawl. She wasn't planning on being gone long. In fact, she was using this as a sort of test run, for if it turned out to be a success, she planned on doing it more often. Until-

Well, she wasn't sure, exactly. Vaguely, she knew she wanted to go into the forest, so forbidden, because it must hold something better than what was here. And always, at the back of her mind, was a desire, a desire for danger and darkness. Whatever was inside of her, longing to break free, was nothing like the people she tolerated day after day.

They were merely human and Darcy knew she was destined for more, and she knew that the path to that destiny lay beyond the fence.

 **oooo**

The moon was full, pregnant with light, and the night clear, nary a cloud in the black sky. Darcy moved swiftly, silently, with the practiced gait of one who had snuck around for many years. She doubted that even those on guard duty at the front gate would be able to spot her. Their torches were bright flickers behind her, stuck into the ground to provide the safety of light and flame. The creatures in the forest, it was said, perished by fire. Which made them, Darcy tried to reason with anybody who would listen, just like the rest of creation.

There was a hole in the fences, mended poorly from long ago, some distracted young boy no doubt caring more for his fishing or games with his friends than his work, and through this loose bit of flimsy metal Darcy went, sliding onto the other side with ease. She wanted to make a mad dash for the treeline, dark shadows just beyond her field of vision, but she turned around to view the village from an angle none she knew- who were still living, anyway- had seen. The silhouettes of houses, of plots of crops, through decaying diamond shaped twists...how odd that only looking back on the other side of a fence could give her such a sense of satisfaction!

She inhaled deeply, the damp air thicker the closer to the trees she got. This was strange and new, and exhilarating, this pounding feeling, this sense of...freedom! For freedom it was, the very definition of it, and with each step towards the forest Darcy felt for the first time in her life that she was going home.

 **oooo**

Once in the trees, Darcy held her breath, indulging in the absolute stillness of the air, in the hushed shadows. It struck her that leaving behind the village meant leaving behind the blanket of fear that seemed to cover every moment of every day.

How could anyone fear this, how could anyone think that these woods, with their deep, clean smells and protective cover, were equal to death? Had nobody ever bothered to venture out here on their own? Surely not, because no one in their right mind would ever prefer the prison of the village to what she was feeling now.

The night was deep, and all of her obligations were getting farther away with every footfall. Darcy could feel a sort of natural path in front of her, lit occasionally by moonlight in between the bare branches where leaves had already fallen. Her only disappointment was that she couldn't see as well as she wished, and she resolved to visit this exact place in the light of day.

Carrying on in this manner, following the soft carpet of moss and crunchy leaves, Darcy didn't so much see as feel the mist creeping in around her, her heart hammering with anticipation, for this was the same mist that was ever present in those carnal, green and red dreams that left her panting, and it was then she knew that her fascination with the forest and everything in it was because of the call of the tall, hooded figure seemingly sailing towards her.

 **oooo**

She would never be afraid of him, and that was why he wanted her so much. He had spied her from her days of youth, an impudent thing full of maddening questions and a thirst for curiosity. This fledging human was in a league far different than those she was forced to grow up with, to learn from. If only he had been able to have her sooner! And yet he knew, from the very first time she welcomed him into her dreams (for he could only go to those who were willing) that one day, her ashen neck would belong to him. It was a small price to pay, waiting but mere years for what would eventually be his. And _only_ his. He would salivate imagining her begging him to drink from her, urging him to take what she always wished in those blessed dreams for him to ravage away.

So he waited for her to form her plan, to escape her suffocating life and come freely to the forest. And here she was, before him now, her chestnut hair so lovingly framing her pale, delicate face. His one regret would be that he could never see those soft tendrils with the sun shining through them, for surely her head would be awash with strands of dark gold woven throughout the shades of amber, of mahogany, visible only under the flaming rays of daylight. His gaze traveled downward where her eyes, pale blue, were wide with recognition.

"You," she breathed, as he came closer to her, and he smirked at the pulse throbbing madly away in her throat and at both her wrists.

"I," he said, looming over her, his self-control, so honed these many decades, fading away as she licked her full lips, as with only his nearness her body was, as if by instinct, turning to arousal.

She swallowed thickly and he stood, watching her, waiting for her to speak. He could tell there were a hundred questions waiting to spill from that enticing mouth, and he wondered where she would start.

"You are-" She started, but dropped her eyes, as though embarrassed to continue. Still he was silent, allowing her time to gather herself. At last she chuckled softly. "To think, of all the ways I know your touch, I do not even know your name."

Pleased, for all of his kind did so enjoy talking about themselves, he bowed slightly. "I am Loki. And you," he moved slowly, deliberately, nearer to her with each word, until he was close enough to slide one hand softly into her hair, the other at her waist, "are Darcy." Her named rolled off his tongue, as smooth as velvet. Her own name, her very name, said by _him_ , with his arms finally real around her, was her undoing. She would not have been surprised if she had melted to the ground, right as she stood.

"Loki," Darcy breathed, her eyes fluttering shut, and she knew it would hurt at first, but that his caressing lips on her collarbone, on her jaw, and finally on the wounds from his own fangs at her jugular, would ease the pain, would turn it to nothing but the deepest, most desperate pleasure. These were all things he had promised her, in the slumbering hours between one day and the next.

Loki, after all, was nothing if not a keeper of his promises.

 **oooo**

He led her deeper into the woods, where the trees were so tall and the thicket so wide that the sky disappeared altogether. His hand held onto hers, guiding her, gently pulling her at times. Forgetting that Darcy's eyes were those of a mortal, that they could not see as his did in the night, after her third time stumbling on tree roots he swept her up into his arms, holding her against him.

"Hmmm." She mumbled, her eyes closed and a smile on her face.

"What?" He asked, wanting to grin himself at the look of contentment that crossed her features.

"You're warm. I always thought you would be."

"As are you." Loki nuzzled into her neck for a moment, savoring the scent of her hair, before pressing his lips lightly to her temple.

Her eyes narrowed up at him. "When, Loki?" She said, breathy, as though she couldn't stand his mouth being so close to her and only having a chaste, albeit affectionate, kiss to show for it.

"When what, darling?" He replied, his eyes now on the forest before him.

Darcy clicked her tongue and crossed her arms. But she knew him, as well as he knew her. Seduction was his game, and one he was a master at. She may not have had the many years of liasons he surely did, but she was very aware of how she could tempt him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself up to his ear, her lips brushing his lobe. "But I am warm...so very warm...and soft...and... _wet_..."

The back of the tree, a tall Aspen, was slammed into her back before she knew what was happening. And Loki, his green eyes dark, and hungry, his fangs already protruding obscenely, white and sharp, was above her, and Darcy had to use all of her strength to stop from matching the smirk that had been on his face only moments before.

"You should always," Loki said, his voice a primal growl, "be careful what you say to a vampire." There! A name, a real meaning, for what he- and all those in the forest- were. Darcy held that word, _vampire_ , firm in her head and in her heart. Loki forced her hands above her head, pinning her (rather unnecessarily, she thought, as she was exactly where she wanted to be) to the tree, his body flush against her own.

"Or what?" She challenged, raising an eyebrow at him, searching his now-ravenous gaze. "You'll eat me?"

Loki groaned, reaching for her hips, pulling her legs around his waist in a swift motion. Darcy could feel him, erect and so hard, pressing into her own aching core. She gasped as he shifted his weight, the friction driving her into white-hot ecstasy.

"Oh pet," Loki said, becoming absolutely still, his forehead pressed against hers, "Not here. Not now, you must understand..." But his lips hovered over her own, touching them softly before they traveled downward, painfully slowly, coming to rest right above her clavicle, his breath hot and sweet on her skin.

"Please," Darcy begged, unable to stand it any longer, "If you don't, I'll go mad, I know it."

"As you wish, darling. But always be careful what you wish for."

It was pain as she had never known it, a shredding of her skin, of her muscles, down to her bones, all of which was mere paper to his sharp teeth. And then, a flow of honey, of elation, of every nerve in her body being touched by flames, and she could hear herself pleading for more, for him to take all the blood he desired, and then she was calling his name like a prayer, and all the while his cock pressed into her, stiffer with each passing second.

At long last, and yet it was truly not long enough, Loki pulled his lips from her, picked up her weary, shaking form, and continued his route through the forest, clenching, if possible, Darcy tighter to him.

 **oooo**

She didn't know how long she slept, only that she woke, refreshed as she had never been before, draped on a cushioned couch, covered with soft furs. Darcy's fingers immediately flew to her neck, which still throbbed with a longing that traveled right down to her very sex. She had expected to find dried, caked blood there, but perhaps Loki was too neat with his feedings. Or perhaps he had washed away all traces of what he'd done. She realized that her hair was slightly damp, as though she had indeed taken a bath.

"Ah, you're finally awake!" A voice startled her, and Darcy sat up to see a beautiful young girl walking towards her with a tray of food. The room was very dimly lit, the only light from a crackling fire in an elaborate marble grate.

"My God... _Jane?_ " Darcy cried, when the girl came close enough to her to see properly.

Impossible! Jane had disappeared from the village three years ago, but never under any circumstance such as this...it was guessed that she left the safety of the fence while hunting for mushrooms, and was attacked by a bear. A pool of blood had been found along with one of Jane's handkerchiefs, and grizzlies had been sighted from the village watchtower only one day before. Darcy knew Jane's family would forever prefer her to have perished a horrific death than be here, a creature of the forest.

"Oh Darcy, when Loki brought you last night, I was so happy!" Jane set down the tray and flung her arms around Darcy. "And I wasn't the only one," Jane continued, nudging Darcy with her shoulder. "Loki has been particularly unbearable these past few months. All of us knew it must be soon."

"Knew...what must be soon?" Of all the thousands of questions Darcy had, this seemed as good a place to start as any.

"That you would come to the forest, of course," Jane replied, now plucking a bunch of grapes from the tray and passing them to Darcy.

"Oh. Well..." Darcy mumbled, popping a grape in her mouth. So much happening out here in the wide world, in the real world!

"Well indeed." Jane nudged Darcy again, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "So," Jane helped herself to a slice of peach then turned back to Darcy, eyeing where her hand still rested at her neck, "how was it?"

Darcy, for possibly the first time in her life, blushed.

 **oooo**

She was to learn many things in the coming days, things like that as she herself had been singled out, chosen, by Loki, so had Jane been by Loki's own brother, Thor. The bear attack had been staged, so Jane's family wouldn't suffer, worrying about her being condemned to torment and brimstone. She also discovered that Loki himself had never before come to a woman, not in her dreams or in the woods. She was the first he had ever taken fresh blood from, the one he had saved that first, eternal connection for.

Jane and Darcy were the only humans among the group. Others had been turned by their companions, but Thor and Loki were loathe to part Darcy and Jane with their humanity, at least as of yet. Darcy had no complaint; her blood was sweet and crisp as autumn apples to Loki, and to feel him drink from her was the very height of pleasure and happiness.

Darcy knew that this place, this large house with luxury seeping from every piece of furniture, every plate of rich food, was now her home. She was never to see her father again, never to see the village again.

As Darcy belonged to Loki, she now also belonged to the Forest of Hands and Teeth.

 **I am planning to add to this collection every now and then with a new fairy tale theme. Lengths will vary from drabbles to several thousands of words. Lyrics used from Feed My Frankenstein by Alice Cooper. As ever, feedback is appreciated!**


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